


Surrender

by purplecelery



Category: Black Sails
Genre: M/M, Spanking, Trans Silver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 12:24:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13787727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplecelery/pseuds/purplecelery
Summary: In which Silver asks Flint for something specific.Set in Season One.





	Surrender

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brasspetal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brasspetal/gifts).



Silver is tired, it has been a long fucking day. He's beatdown by the sun, by the sweat that soaks his skin, and by the bruises the crew left him as he tried to win them over through gossip and smiles. He had the men fed, had neglected his own meal, instead choosing to drag himself to the Captain’s Cabin. He placed a knock at the door, before pushing in as Flint’s “Come in,” touched his ears. He tried to shake a smile onto his face and straighten his back. He came here with a purpose in mind. And when he set his mind, nothing could dissuade him, or anyone else for that matter.

“Captain…” he began, his voice the gentling query that he used to prepare someone for a request they may not take to at first.

“What is it Silver, I’m busy.” Flint’s back was to him as he looked over charts, mapping plans for whatever information Silver might eventually provide, and granting Silver a glorious private moment to stare at the fabric of the Captain’s pants stretched taut over the muscle of his ass. Considering, he tilted his head and decided there was no point in delaying his purpose. 

“I’ve seen the way you watch when the men react violently in the galley.” At this Flint turns, he looks confused, clearly unprepared for the line of conversation.

“What?” Flint’s voice turned gruff, and Silver tried to steady on through the stirring in his chest.

“I can feel your eyes on me, and I’ve seen the line of your mouth twitch as I recover from the blows.” Silver approaches his gamble, while Flint’s mouth draws into a tight line, uncertain of what is happening in this conversation. Christ, he didn’t know if he himself was prepared for this conversation. But he was tired with a need to fill, so he continued, “Your gaze is intoxicating.”

“What the _fuck_ are you talking about Silver?”

“I want you to fucking hit me. I want to bend over that desk and have you bring your hands down on my ass until my arms collapse from under me. Strike me until your hand is permanently marked into my skin. I want to feel nothing but my skin beat hot, out of anyone’s control, and get out of my fucking head. I want you to tell how I’m meant for this, how beautiful I am, and how fucking wanted I would be if I were your crew’s woman.”  

His last line Silver threw out like a challenge waiting to be met. Silver had no idea if Flint enjoyed the company of men, or what he thought of feminine qualities in one such as himself, but at this point he didn’t fucking care. He was too fucking tired trying to survive. And he wanted this too much. “So what’ll it be, Captain? Yes or No?”

The two of them stood at an impasse. Silver quietly holding his ground, keeping Flint’s gaze and Flint...clenching his jaw, eyes slanted, thinking loudly. He could hear Flint’s mind racing over everything that he had just imparted. And fuck if he couldn’t stop himself racing his eyes over Flint’s body, power incarnate, before snapping back up to Flint’s deliberating eyes.

“If not, I will see myself out. Feel free to forget this ever happened.” Silver turned and went to leave but, just as quickly, Flint’s hand was upon him and tossing him back. Silver’s back was to the desk now and his breathing abruptly came short as Flint’s gaze held a newfound heat. Silver felt his breath hitch as Flint reached out and traced a bead of sweat at the hollow of his throat, before bringing it to the tip of his tongue. Flint’s eyes closed as his thumb sat perched between his bowed lips.

“Turn around and bring your pants to your knees.” Silver couldn’t help as he moaned out turning to do exactly as he said. Leaning over the desk he breathed out, “Thank you, Captain.”

Flint let out a huff of laughter that washed over Silver like warm water. He goddamn reveled in it. He could practically see the smirk on Flint’s face, like the one he leveled him after he said _we could be friends by then_. And while they might not, in this moment, be that, they were certainly about to become _something_ to each other.

Flint brought a palm to Silver’s exposed ass. He lightly grazed it over his cheeks before he brought a hand to each and squeezed. Silver groaned while Flint hummed introspectively behind him.

“Fucking hit me already,” Silver whined as Flint continued to stare and grope without any motion to do as Silver had requested. Suddenly a sharp sound rang out and pain singed his skin. “ _Yes,_ ” Silver hissed as Flint brought down an equal blow on the other side of him. God it felt so good, without thinking he pushed his ass out a farther, sinking his weight onto his forearms braced against the desk.

“You love this don’t you. Surrendering yourself. Losing yourself in my hand,” Silver could practically feel, rather than hear, the growl Flint let loose after speaking. The Captain landing a quick round of hits to punctuate his words. Silver moaned slipping further into his mind as Flint dragged his nails across his ass, digging his fingers into where he raised his blood to the surface of his skin.

Flint massaged over his skin and struck out light taps gradually using more and more of his force. Silver followed his beat like a pattern to freedom. Release from the crew, from the bosun, the quartermaster, and ultimately Flint himself. The strikes becoming freedom from his body. His skin becoming nothing but fire sculpted at the base of a hand. Vaguely, in the distance, he heard Flint continue to speak whispering about how fucking gorgeous he is, about his hair shining with his heat, his sweat, glowing with the candlelight.

He could feel a smile warm over his face as he heard Flint talk about how he imagined his ass, his skin moving under his, how wanton he’d be. How his every move was lithe and feminine begging for surrender. How he’s seen the crew eye him as he glistens bloody, and smiling. Silver leaving them wanting more, and that more becoming more and more undefinable as lust hazes the crew’s mind. He feels his Captain’s words like honey poured on him and licked off with Flint’s heat as Flint drenches him in possession. With words of how the crew can not have him, how the whores can not have him, how he only belongs here, now, to the Captain of this ship.

His skin beats with the thrumming of Flint’s power running through him. His power staving off hunger and giving him the sustenance he needs to face the following days...if there are to be following days. Fuck but the blows were hard now, landing with a force that likely has Flint straining behind him, panting with a wildness burning through his veins. His own hide likely shining like he’d been left naked on deck for days on end. He has no idea how long he’s been here anymore. It could be the sixth day of his creation and he wouldn’t know or care.

Through the haze of his mind he hears Flint say “Count down ten more.” Silver groans realizing he had laid his weight on the desk in what he told Flint was his surrender. His whole body felt heavy, and his words felt like molasses trying to work their way out. But he managed, as he must, to count out. Flint’s blows hard, reverberating through his whole body. On the hard strike of three he felt his body shake out, his knees collapse, his body propped only by his chest lying flat along the desk, and he felt a wetness bloom beneath him. Softly he cried out along to two and one as Flint’s breathing came back into his ears. He could vaguely hear a whine, an intake of breath and feel Flint’s hands stroke over his ass and thighs, grounding them both back to the reality of the deck and to the ship they resided.

The Captain rested him, gentling his hair, until slowly he pieced himself back together. When he did he muttered a small thank you, and left the Captain to his quarters, retreating to his hammock and to sleep.  

 


End file.
